Les Petites Échos

The evening took a turn for the worse when the Signalman invited me back to his tea point.

After some painful negotiation, the twins agreed to split their houses.

The last remaining steam warehouse in North Carolina.

My hotel room overlooks that famous river of dreams—the NJ Turnpike. The blood of so many men courses thru its veins.

Hipwell was good but it was Dingwall that turned me into the man I am today.

My grandmother was a pioneer in the field.

Spruce Viking burial pyramids in Uppsala.

Interventionist googly eye graffito on a wall advert in Uppsala, Sweden.

The choice.

(via visual news)

Luigi Prina's sailing ships.

Try to understand the night.

That fall he began appearing everywhere in the city. It became nearly impossible to find a wall that was not graced with his visage.

(from fubiz)

Yesterday I bought a new pet. His name is Herbert.

Luckily, J.C. Higgins blossomed from an asthmatic ne’er-do-well to the inventor of the bicycle.

I grew up as the son of an import/export magnate in Donetsk Oblast.